


Is he a Slave or the Master

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Master/Slave, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a changed world there are two groups of people – those who are Fortunate's (rich, powerful, and privileged) and the Unfortunates (middle-class, poor, sick, and blue collar workers). The Unfortunates are taken on as slaves or servants, or forced to fight in the pits for the entertainment of the others.  Jensen lost his family when the world changed and now he is a slave, bound and taken to his new master, he has no choice but to do as he is bid.  Jared, however, is not what he was expecting and Jensen finds his life changing in a way he wasn’t expecting.  As time goes on he realises he is no longer a slave but something more and the relationship between him and Jared becomes blurred until it is hard to tell who is the slave and who is the master.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Is he a Slave or the Master

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as a pinch-hit for the 2012 Supernatural reverse bang challenge. The fic was inspired by artwork posted by bumerbmw on LJ - a link to the artwork will follow.

[ ](http://annie46.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/339/31997)

Jensen leaned back against the cold metal of the truck and closed his eyes for a moment.

It was cold and his chest was bare, the jeans he wore patched and frayed. His feet were icy, toes almost numb with it and he shuffled around, wriggling them, wishing he could reach down and rub them with his fingertips but his hands were still tied, wrists bound in thick leather cuffs, soft enough not to damage but tight enough to hold him firm.

He knew, despite everything, that he was one of the lucky ones. Most slaves ended up in the pits, fighting until death gave them an out. He had wondered, given his healthy constitution and his strong body, if he too would meet that fate but, before all this he had been a librarian; studious and educated, and this had somehow worked in his favor.

The truck stopped and the nameless man who had taken him from the pound came around and opened the back doors. He dragged Jensen to his feet and pulled him out of the vehicle. He wasn’t gentle but he was careful because he knew that any bruises on the merchandise would instantly devalue his charge.

Jensen looked up at the house in front of him; it was huge, palatial, white walls and large windows. These people must be rich, richer than most of the Fortunate’s, if they were able to keep such a fine house after all that had happened.

His handler rang the bell and the door instantly opened. There was a maid, another slave no doubt, dressed all in black and white like something out of an old movie. She looked swiftly at Jensen before looking away again, her dark eyes lowered. She was almost too thin, small and delicate, her figure similar to that of a boy, flat breasts and no hips to speak of. Jensen watched her as he was pushed past, no words exchanged between the man who held him and the woman who watched them.

“Wait here!” The man, pressed him up against the red-bricked wall. The corridor was long and there were several doors leading off it, to who knew where. It was warmer in the house and Jensen let his headrest against the hard surface behind him, ignoring the ache behind his eyes and the tremors of his body.

Two people appeared to his left. One was an older man, bald with gold framed glasses and sharp hazel eyes. He was frail and used a stick to walk. He moved closer until he was up close to Jensen and looked him up and down, his bright eyes taking in Jensen’s bare chest and shabby, tattered clothing. A slightly younger woman followed the old man, with silver hair tied up in a chignon and pearls strung around her delicate throat. She wore a smart day dress and had golden bangles on her wrist that jangled as she moved. Like the man (possibly her husband), she peered at Jensen curiously, coming so close that Jensen thought she might actually lift his lip and look at his teeth.

He had seen people do that before in the pound and he had seen potential clients leave bloody with their fingers bitten off. The perpetrators nearly always ended up going to the pits, a certain and painful death their punishment for their last act of defiance.

“Well?” The man who had brought Jensen in spoke at last. “Do you want him or not?”

“He certainly looks a fine specimen,” the old man spoke, accent soft and clearly Texan. He was definitely _new money_ and he had obviously used his money to make sure that he and his family survived the _Incident_ as the politicians liked to call it. “But whether he stays or not, is up to Jared.”

The woman nodded and put a cold hand on his arm, Jensen wasn’t sure if it were meant to be reassuring but he lifted his chin so that he could look her in the eyes. She smiled at him, some sympathy in her expression.

“Genevieve,” she spoke to the maid. “Go and fetch Jared right now.”

The maid inclined her head in acknowledgement and moved swiftly down the corridor and into one of the rooms. There was silence for a moment and the door opened and Jensen looked up to see one of the tallest men he had ever seen dip his head and move into the corridor.

The man was perhaps a few years younger than Jensen was, in his late twenties or early thirties. He wore a slate grey suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. His hair was too long, hanging in soft waves around his broad shoulders and his eyes were soft and slanting, hazel like those of the old man. He came closer and Jensen breathed in, thinking that perhaps in a different life they could have been friends.

_Jensen had lost his family during **the Incident** , his whole city virtually swept away. He had been the only one left, battered and bruised, no real fight left in him. Life as he knew it was over and he knew on which side of the divide he fell. There were the Fortunate’s – the rich and the famous, politicians and movie stars, those with enough money and power to survive virtually anything. Then there were the Unfortunates – the poor and the homeless, the middle income families, men like Jensen who were neither rich nor powerful, a simple librarian who had enjoyed his simple pleasures, had gone to the gym, played football at the weekends, been engaged to a pretty red headed girl, happy and contented until everything changed._

_Since then he had become almost numb; let himself be bound and taken to the pound with all the other Unfortunates, watched as some of the women were trained as sex slaves, some as maids or nannies. America, like the world, had become a divided nation, slaves and servants a common household commodity, fight clubs and arenas the new entertainment. There were no more films, no TV. Electricity was scarce and only the very rich could afford it. Jensen didn’t know what would happen to him but he didn’t much care. He was alive, he had survived and that was enough._

Now, the young man with his foolish hair and big hands was looming over him, his eyes shadowed, hidden beneath over-long bangs. He bent low so that he could look at Jensen, fingers reaching out and caressing the soft leather of his bonds, touch curious as if he didn’t quite know what to do or say.

“Well?” The old man sounded irritated and impatient. “Do you want him or not?”

The young man – Jared – frowned for a moment and then he nodded, his tongue coming out to wet his lips, white teeth biting into pink flesh as he considered Jensen.

“Yeah – yeah, have him brought to my room.” He glanced over at the man who had brought Jensen here. “We can sort him out some clothes in the morning.” He bent forward and for a moment Jensen tensed wondering what he was going to do and his lips brushed against Jensen’s ear, the words soft and low so only Jensen could hear them. “I guess you are tired and confused but don’t worry. I’m not gonna’ send you away and I’m not gonna’ hurt you. Trust me.” He stood up to his full height then and tugged at Jensen’s bound hands. “Bring him now,” he ordered and strode away down the corridor as Jensen watched him go, mind whirling.

What was going to happen to him now?

****

Jensen was ushered into a large and spacious bedroom; Jared was sitting on the king sized bed, hands hanging loose between his knees. He looked up as Jensen entered and he gestured for the handler to go away. The man hesitated and Jared huffed angrily, “My parents will pay you,” he said, flatly. “Now, leave!”

As soon as the man had, gone Jared rose to his feet and came over to where Jensen stood. He bent his head for a moment and then reached out, long fingers undoing the leather bonds and letting them drop to the ground. Jensen felt the feeling flood back into his hands and he rubbed them together unable to keep the gratitude out of his expression.

“Here.” Jared handed him a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. “These will be a little big but they will do for now.”

“What am I here for?” Jensen knew he was risking a lot by asking. He was a slave, purchased for whatever reason; he had to do whatever Jared requested of him.

Jared laughed wryly then, his eyes raking up over Jensen’s still naked chest, his threadbare jeans and dusty bare feet.

“You are here to be my sex slave,” he spoke with such a matter-of-fact tone that Jensen almost laughed aloud but then he saw the expression on Jared’s face and he realized that this was no joke.

“What?” 

“My parents have a shelter in our basement. The whole family hid there during the _Incident_. We had money enough to do anything we wanted, money kept us safe and, when the world as we knew it ended, we were down in our shelter, eating oysters and drinking champagne. We are truly fortunate.” He shook his head. “Afterwards all my mother was interested in was making sure that we survived, that our family name did not die out and she started to invite other Fortunate’s – other survivors round here, started to parade women in front of me, determined to find me a suitable wife, someone I could procreate with, give her what she wanted.”

“What has that to do with me?” Jensen slipped the t-shirt over his head. His hands were shaking and his stomach clenched. He wasn’t gay and had never even been touched by another man. He had always known that this might be a possibility but he had not been trained for this and he was frightened, the numbness that had protected him giving way to apprehension and real terror.

“I’m gay,” Jared said, starkly, slanting fox-like eyes narrowing, wide mouth turning down. He ran a hand through his messy hair and shrugged. “My parents were unaware of that fact and, as you can imagine, were not best pleased when they heard my revelation.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “What sort of parent buys their son a sex slave? What has this world come to?”

Jensen shook his head; he had no answer, he was tired, confused, it had been a long journey, a long day and he was hungry and thirsty, his feet aching and cold, and his body limp with exhaustion.

“They have bought you for me, to appease me. It is part of the deal, I marry their best friend’s daughter and play at being a happy husband and then I get to take my pleasure with you. You were chosen because you are beautiful, intelligent. Sending you to the pits would have been a tragic waste.”

Jensen licked his dry lips; he wanted to run but knew it would be pointless. He stared up at Jared and wondered. He seemed nice enough but who knew what lay behind those eyes, or what was going through that head.

“I’m going to get you something to eat and drink and then you can get some sleep.” Jared gestured to a spare bed at the other side of the room. It looked clean and comfortable and Jensen wanted to go over and lie on it, his first real bed in years. “We can talk more when you are refreshed.” Jared was still talking, “But rest assured, I will not make you do anything that you don’t want to. I have taken you because if I had not you would be sent back to the pound and I don’t want that for you. I don’t believe in this sudden divide, it isn’t right and it isn’t fair. Before this, all I wanted was to go to university, I wanted to be a writer but it is too late now. Now we _Fortunate’s_ are expected to rule the world – not a role I relish.”

Jensen couldn’t think of anything to say; he pulled the sweat pants over his shaking legs and allowed Jared to lead him over to the bed.

“I am going to have to bind you again,” Jared, said his voice low and reluctant. “We have to play this game or I will lose you.”

Jensen sat on the bed and let Jared tie his ankles. His hands left free until he had eaten the bread and meat Jared had ordered for him and drank two glasses of water. It was the most he had eaten in a while and he felt placid, weak, holding his hands up and letting Jared wrap the soft leather loosely around his wrists, feeling those long fingers caress his knuckles, gentle and reassuring.

“We will get through this,” he whispered. “You are my property but what I really need is a friend.”

Jensen closed his eyes and tucked his bound hands beneath his chin. He heard Jared move away and, despite all reassurances, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had no idea what was going to happen but he felt he might trust Jared but it was so long since he had trusted anyone he wasn’t sure he dared do it again.

****

Jensen knew he was one of the lucky ones. He had listened to talk in the pound, talk of slaves having their tendons cut, of them being hobbled so they couldn’t run. Here, he was lying in a comfortable bed, body refreshed, relaxed after a peaceful, undisturbed night’s sleep. He sighed and pushed back the covers, he needed to piss but it would be impossible to move with his hands and feet tied and he realized, with some embarrassment, that he was going to have to ask Jared if he could go to the bathroom.

Jared was fast asleep in his own bed and Jensen took a moment to observe him. He was a big man, muscular, built, his chest, and arms obviously the product of a very good gym. His skin tanned as if he spent a lot of time outdoors. Yet in repose, his face was soft and innocent, almost boyish. His cheekbones were high and his mouth wide, the hint of dimples in his cheek and chin. Jensen wondered what Jared had done before the _Incident_ whether he had trawled gay clubs looking for hook-ups or whether he had kept his sexuality a well-guarded secret. Jensen had no problem with gays, he had once had many friends and some of them had preferred the opposite sex. Life had been so ordinary then, so pedestrian and Jensen bit his lip, aching for those times, wanting them back so badly it hurt to even consider them.

Jared’s eyes opened, lashes flickering. He stared at Jensen for a moment as if he had forgotten where he was and where he came from. Jensen shifted on the bed and tried to find the words, knowing he had to ask Jared for permission to piss made his cheeks flush.

Jared seemed to understand and he rolled out of bed, stretching up his arms and shifting his shoulders. He helped Jensen to his feet and then bent down to undo the bonds on his feet, loosening the ones on his wrists too.

“There is an on-suite bathroom.” He said, gently guiding Jensen towards the door. “You can wash and clean your teeth and then you can get dressed and we can go down to breakfast.” He smiled, wryly. “If you need anything just ask, don’t be shy.” He opened to door and let Jensen enter the bathroom alone. “I’ll be right here”, he added and Jensen wondered if he really were that kind or if he were playing some sort of game which Jensen would live to regret.

They ate breakfast in a huge room, wide windows spreading light around it, sunshine bouncing off the polished table. There was so much food that Jensen didn’t know what to choose. He let Jared fill his plate for him and ate as well as he was able with his hands tied. Jared ate his own food and didn’t speak until the maid cleaned the plates away.

“I’m going to take you into town to buy you some clothing. I – you will have to wear a collar.” He flushed and his eyes were shadowed. “I’m sorry but it is necessary. Everyone must know you belong to me. There will be other slaves there and if you are any different to them questions will be asked.”

Jensen nodded; he had no words, but couldn’t voice them even if he did. Whatever the outcome he was property now and, while he was glad to be out of the pound, he wasn’t sure he liked that thought, still apprehensive, wondering when Jared would show his _true_ nature.

***

Jared fastened the leather collar around his throat. It was rigid, the scent of it odd in his nostrils. He felt conscious in the over-sized t-shirt and his shabby jeans but he held his head as high as he could. At least there was no lead and he was able to walk behind Jared, his hands still bound but his feet free. He knew it would be easy to run but he would be caught quickly and his fate didn’t bear thinking about. Beside him, Jared was silent and they waited at the front of the house for the car, Jared getting into the back and gesturing for Jensen to sit beside him instead of on the floor.

“What did you do?” Jared asked, finally, as the car drew away. Jensen turned to look at him for a moment and Jared looked miserable, resigned almost. “Before . . . .”

“I worked in a library.” Jensen had loved his job, loved the books and the scent of them, loved the crisp paper and the feel of the pages beneath his fingertips; “I liked to read.”

Jared bit his lip and it was impossible to read his thoughts. There were no books now, they were burnt, gone along with most of the social media, computers, TV’s, all technology vanished from the world. Now it was almost like being back in the dark ages but there were still cars and fridges, stoves and heat. Life stripped to its most basic of levels for some and yet was almost luxury for others. He bit his lip, the rich would grow richer and the poor would grow poorer. Treatment for illnesses was only available for the Fortunate, the others left to rot away and die. There were leaders but they were shadowy figures locked away somewhere, spouting rhetoric that often made little sense. Jensen was left confused by it but had always thought that the Fortunate’s enjoyed it, even reveled in it. One look at Jared’s misery, his face and shadowed eyes made him wonder. 

“I liked to read too,” Jared, said, softly. “I liked to write as well,” he sighed. “Now all I am, is a sperm donor – someone to keep the world order, and have offspring who will control others. Slaves are not allowed to procreate are they? What will happen when you all die out? Who will we torture then?”

“I don’t know.” Jensen had never thought too deeply, it hurt too much, was far too painful to contemplate. “Life has very little meaning for me now. I – this is all there is.”

Jared turned then and bent towards him, elegant fingers clasping his chin and tipping it up so that he could look closely, his eyes sharp on Jensen’s face.

“You are very beautiful,” he whispered. “Everything, I always wanted and – shit – how I wish we could have met before on equal footing. Maybe we could have been friends then, or perhaps even more.” He took a breath and shook his head. “I know you aren’t gay, Jensen but – but you are so – so ….” He exhaled and pulled away, shaking himself as if to clear his head. “I’m sorry,” he said, finally. “Sorry that you are reduced to this, you neither want it nor deserve it.”

****

The city had changed; many stores had closed and only the very expensive and exclusive ones had survived. Jensen had gotten most of his suits from Wal-Mart but he wasn’t ashamed of that fact, now though, Jared led him into a smart looking building that was fully carpeted and painted in a deep red. Suits of all colors hung in long lines on the walls and there were expensive looking jeans and shirts stacked up in piles, in the corner.

A man, clearly not a servant, came forward and began to creep around Jared. Jared allowed it for a moment and then explained what he wanted. The man huffed a little but he got a tape measure from his pocket and began to measure Jensen, refusing to meet his eyes as he put the tape across his shoulders, his arms and down the inside of his legs. Jared watched with a blank expression but Jensen could see the distaste in his eyes. Jensen’s wrists still bound and the collar chafed his neck. He felt somehow humiliated by the whole situation and even though they left the store with bags full of lavish clothing, he still felt cheap.

Jared was silent on the journey back; Jensen peered out at the darkened street noting that there was no one around now. The streets were deserted and there were no bars or restaurants open, most of them boarded up, shrouded in darkness.

“There is an eight o clock curfew unless you want to go to the pits,” Jared explained as Jensen pressed his nose up against the window. “Most Fortunate’s go there at the weekends to bet on the bouts,” he said. “It isn’t my idea of entertainment.”

Jensen wanted to say something and he bit his lip to stop the words. He wondered if Jared really was this nice, this perfect, whether he was some sort of saint. Jared looked tired, his eyes shadowed and Jensen felt compelled to reach out and brush the bangs from his face, his heart beating hard for the first time in a long while, moved by another human being, something he had sworn would never happen.

****

They ate in Jared’s room; Jared undid his bonds and let him feed himself, offered him beer from the cooler, a bag of candy. Jensen felt tired and overwhelmed. He wasn’t used to such kindness and it moved and frightened him in equal measures. 

After food he showered; his old clothes were gone so he wrapped a towel around his waist and came out of the bathroom still wearing the collar not wanting to take it off without _permission_. Jared was standing beside the open window, his back to the light, the soft leather of Jensen’s bonds hanging loosely in his fingers. He turned when Jensen entered and his eyes grew wide, his mouth open, his breathing suddenly fast and shallow in the silent room.

“Shit Jensen,” he whispered. “Put some fucking clothes on.”

Jensen inclined his head and said, “Sorry.” It was the closest thing to an order that Jared had ever given him. He bent over the bed and picked up the soft top and sleep pants Jared had bought in the store.

“You have no idea do you?” Jared was close; he could feel the hot puff of his breath on the back of his neck. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

Jensen turned, his own heart thundering. He shook his head and lowered his eyes, not wanting to look. Jared was so close and he felt uncomfortable, uneasy.

“My parents keep asking about you? Whether I am happy with you and if you please me. They are planning to bring Sandra here in the next few days, to start our _wedding plans_.” He sighed and bit his lip. “I don’t want to marry her but I’ll have to if I want to keep you and I do – I do want to keep you.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple rising and falling. “This is so wrong,” his hands were shaking as he reached forward to wrap his fingers lightly around Jensen’s still naked shoulders. “Let me kiss you,” he pleaded.

Jensen’s heart jolted; he was the slave here and yet Jared was asking – ASKING – him permission. He felt his own breath catch in his throat and he shook his head slowly, not a refusal, just complete and utter confusion.

Jared pulled him upright. Jensen was still naked, only a towel between him and the other man. He felt his wrists encircled by Jared’s large fingers and then he felt the soft leather tied around them, loose but firm. He stood facing Jared, bare-chested and bound, but it was hard to tell, even as they stared at each other which one was the slave and which one the master.

“Kiss me,” this time it was a command and Jensen felt a shudder run down his spine. He had expected something to happen but not like this. Jared was gentle, tentative, and almost reluctant. Jensen licked at his dry lips.

“I - . . . .” He realized even as he began to speak that he had no choice in the matter, whatever happened. Jared could force him, Jared could overpower him and if he didn’t do as he was asked Jared could just send him away, sell him to another, or worse tell those who ran the pound, who sold him for profit, that Jensen was unsatisfactory. If sent back under those conditions, he would surely be off loaded to the pits and he would die there. He might not be gay and this might not be pleasant but it would not be a worse fate than death.

“Please.” Jared bent forward and pressed his lips against Jensen’s. Jared’s mouth was dry, his skin damp with sweat. Jensen tasted salt and he opened his lips to let Jared’s tongue inside his mouth. Jared gave a little groan and tangled his fingers in Jensen’s short hair. The kiss deepened and held, hard and passionate and Jensen felt Jared harden against him, the steely feel of his cock against Jensen’s hip.

The kiss lingered until Jared released Jensen and pushed back, leaning against the wall breathing hard. Jensen stood still, he felt somehow vulnerable, naked but for the towel which was slipping down, his chest gleaming with sweat, his own cock shockingly half-hard. With his hands still tied and he lost his grip on the towel. It fell to the floor leaving him bare, his whole body on display. Jared was staring at him, mouth open, eyes blown wide with lust and want.

“I won’t force you,” Jared’s voice was hoarse. “I didn’t want this anymore than you did but what choice do we have? We cannot change what has happened; we cannot go against the others, the leaders.” He rubbed his face and closed his eyes. “But we can be friends, we can do this together. I can’t make you want me but God you are so beautiful.”

“You . . . .” Jensen was aware of the tightening in his gut, his cock beginning to fill, long since neglected, ignored. He tried to remember the last time someone had kissed him, touched him. His fiancée was dead and his family gone. Yes, Jared was right, he had no choice in the matter but Jared wasn’t forcing him, Jared was giving him the choice and, for the first time since the _Incident_ he was no longer numb, his whole being alive with feeling, emotions he hadn’t felt for months running through his body, his blood boiling with it.

“You don’t have to force me,” his voice was low, rusty. “You are my master and I am here to obey you.”

“Jensen.” Jared looked at him, eyes opening, lashes fluttering. Jensen stared back. They had only met yesterday and who knows what tomorrow would bring but now – now he could give Jared this and, to his surprise, he knew he wanted to.

****

Jensen went down on his knees; he had never done this before nor had he had it done to him but he figured it couldn’t be hard and he swallowed down his fear as he shuffled towards Jared and got his hands on the other man’s thighs. Jared gave a gasp of surprise and shock, his own hands shaking as they grabbed Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen was aware he was still wearing the collar but the leather on his wrists was loose enough for him to pull Jared closer, get his hands on Jared’s zipper and pull it down. He freed Jared’s cock, pausing only to wonder at it, another man’s cock so close, the scent of it so different to his own, thick and already leaking, Jared’s breath hard in his ears.

“You don’t have to,” Jared began but Jensen ignored him, his lips fastening around the head of Jared’s erection tasting salt, sweat and pre come. It should have been unpleasant but it wasn’t, it was somehow erotic and arousing. Jensen’s own cock was hard, brushing against his belly. He tried hard to please Jared, licking and sucking, clumsy and wet. He must have been doing something right because Jared gave a sudden groan and pushed him away. Jensen wondered, briefly, if he had gotten the signals wrong or if he had hurt Jared but instead he felt warm liquid splatter on his cheek, chin and chest and he realized that Jared was coming and that he had done that, he had made Jared come.

Jared dropped to his knees and kissed Jensen hard. His fingers hooked under the collar as he pulled Jensen closer. Jensen felt frustrated, the pain in his cock almost unbearable and when he felt Jared’s hand brush across it he came fast and unexpected, his whole body trembling with it.

“God,” Jared breathed out long and hard. “God, Jensen.”

“It’s alright.” Jensen didn’t know why he was reassuring Jared but the younger man was shaking and compliant and he buried his head in Jensen’s neck.

“I never wanted this from you - I wanted to be the better man,” Jared choked the words out and Jensen shushed him again. 

It wasn’t what he had expected but it was good, it was good and he knew that he was lucky and that Jared really was perfect.

For the first time in a long time, Jensen was almost happy.

****

Life went on.

Jared tried to keep Jensen to himself as much as possible but sometimes he would have to _make an appearance_ at dinner or at a party. Jensen knew that Jared hated those times, hated that Jensen had to wear a collar, bound at the wrists, and paraded around by Jared, chest and feet bare, his body on display for party guests and family alike. Jensen had come to accept things, perhaps better than Jared had. Jensen found he didn’t mind the stares, the orders to kneel or to sit. He had become fond of Jared and he knew that Jared was fond of him and that was enough.

Their sex life was gentle and undemanding; hand jobs or blowjobs, things Jensen was getting good at doing. Jared didn’t push for more, his big hands splaying over Jensen’s thighs as he went down on him, his mouth nipping at Jensen’s sac. They were equals in this and Jared no longer made Jensen wear the collar or bound his hands. In the bedroom, they were friends and only became slave and master if they both wanted it.

Six months after Jensen’s arrival Jared’s mother announced his engagement to Sandra. Jensen had never met Jared’s fiancée and he had no real longing to do so. He watched, concerned, as Jared grew quieter, more insular, his eyes haunted as he paced the room mumbling that he didn’t want to do this, that he just couldn’t keep his side of the bargain.

***  
One night Jensen awoke to find Jared crouching over him; Jared was naked but for the collar, tight around his neck, muscles bulging. Jensen opened his mouth to speak, throat dry but Jared shushed him, putting a fingertip over his lips and kissing him hard.

Jared turned them, lay on his back, and pulled Jensen over him; his eyes were full of longing and Jensen knew what he wanted, what he needed. As a slave it wasn’t his place to do this, it should be him giving himself over to Jared but the younger man wouldn’t allow him to speak, pulling him close and opening his thighs urging him on. Jensen gripped the collar, held the leather in his fingertips and pushed inside Jared, feeling him warm and tight, the sensations making him almost mindless with lust. He had not been gay in his previous life but now – now he realized he was growing fonder of Jared day by day and there was no going back for either of them. As he fucked into Jared’s willing body he held on, wondering what would happen if Jared refused to engage Sandra. Jensen had been bought to appease Jared and if Jared didn’t do as he was asked, Jensen may be sent away.

He didn’t think he could survive if that happened and he cried out in pain and pleasure as he came, clinging hard onto Jared, listening to the other man’s groans, feeling his heart pounding, the wetness of Jared’s release staining both of them, the two of them glued together with sweat and come.

“Don’t worry.” Jared stroked his hair, eyes soft on his face. “We are going to be okay. Trust me – trust me, we are going to be okay.”

And Jensen did trust him, had to trust him, it was all he had right now and he kissed Jared’s throat and chin, his mind thinking the words he couldn’t yet bring himself to say.

****

When he awoke, again Jared was up, dressed, and thrusting things into a large bag. Jensen stared at him, his throat caught. He wondered if Jared’s parents had found out, he didn’t want to get engaged, wondered if they were going to send Jensen back to the pound. Jensen felt his body go cold. He was no longer numb, he had let himself feel and now – now all he could feel was fear, real and tangible.

Jared noticed he was awake; he moved swiftly, his hands on Jensen’s shoulders.

“It’s okay,” he said, softly. “You’re not leaving – not alone – we both are.”

“What?” Jensen propped himself up on his elbows, confused. “How can we leave?”

“I hate this. I don’t like the new world – the new order. I don’t like living somewhere where there is such a gulf and divide that is caused by nothing else but wealth and privilege.”

“But, where can we go? If I vanish, your parents will send the guards out for me. Runaway slaves are killed or sent to the pits.”

“You won’t be sent anywhere – you will be with me.” Jared smiled. “My parents are rich and selfish but they’re not stupid. They won’t want the scandal of a runaway gay son. No, they will sweep it all under the carpet, won’t risk destroying their _world order_ that way.”

“Jared.”

“I didn’t know what to do with you or how to treat you when you first came here. I didn’t want a slave and I certainly didn’t want a sex slave, but you – you have become everything to me. You are as much a master as you are a slave because you have captured me Jensen and I’m not letting you go – not for anyone or anything.”

“Where will we go?” Jensen’s heart was thundering, he felt his heart pounding and his stomach clenching but it was joy now not fear. He had hope, he had hope of a new life and he wanted it so badly.

“I’ve heard rumors from friends that there is a safe place – an encampment – far away from the city. We can go there.”

“What if that place doesn’t exist? What then?”

“We just keep searching; there will be places for us, Jensen. There will be places where we can live together as equals and we will find them. We have to.” He leaned down and kissed Jensen on the lips. “Do you want this? If you don’t then I won’t force you, I’ll marry Sandra and do my duty and I’ll keep you here, safe and loved.”

“No.” Jensen shook his head. “I want this. I want us on equal footing. I – I love you, Jared. I do the things I do for you, because I love you not because you own me.”

Jared smiled then, dimples and everything. He put out his hand and pulled Jensen to his feet.

“Then we go,” he said, softly.

****

They left the house in the early hours of morning; they couldn’t risk taking a car so they walked, away from the life Jared had always known, away from the safety of his home and out into the unknown.

Jensen wore normal clothing no collar or restraints. He was a free man and so was Jared. Their journey might be hazardous or dangerous and they may never find the safety they were looking for but they were free and with each other, not master or servant, Fortunate or Unfortunate but friends and lovers.

They would find a new world – their world - together.

End


End file.
